


Unquestioning

by Piinutbutter



Category: Soul Calibur
Genre: Family, Fluff, Loyalty, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12042648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/pseuds/Piinutbutter
Summary: An attempted assassination is nothing new for Voldo. He works for a powerful man who collects enemies like honey collects flies. But he does wish these would-be assassins could have better timing. He was so looking forward to having a nice, peaceful vacation at his master’s side.





	Unquestioning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hokuto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokuto/gifts).



Every treasure hunter treated their collection differently. There were those who locked their treasures behind glass and steel, protected from the greedy fingers of dust and onlookers, never to be touched, worn, or used.

Vercci was not that kind of collector. He believed there was no sense in acquiring an item if it was never going to serve its purpose. The weapons he bought and sold were all used in combat at some point, their elegant designs all the more beautiful when they were wielded by expert hands. The fine jewelry he acquired rarely went unworn, enhancing the beauty of every neck, wrist, and finger they adorned.

And then there was Voldo.

Vercci made no secret of the fact that he considered Voldo part of his collection of curiosities. His favorite item, in fact, and Voldo was indeed quite the oddity. A young sailor from a family that could have been described as working class if Vercci was being generous, Voldo stood out from the noisy rabble by virtue of his silence. (Well, that, and the fact that he could contort himself into positions that would make a brothel owner blush. But Vercci liked to pretend that wasn't what had drawn his attention.) Vercci had taken the boy under his wing and trained him into a warrior and a gentleman, and he was quite happy with the result. 

Voldo, above all else, needed a sense of purpose. Vercci knew that from the moment he saw the boy on the streets, scrawny and angry and looking so utterly, deeply lost for no reason at all. He needed to know where he belonged, and better yet, to whom. It was a need Vercci was happy to meet.

Now, years later, Voldo stepped off a ship and onto the docks of his hometown a very different man. He stood tall, carrying himself with control and confidence as he walked attentively at his master’s heels. Still, he couldn’t keep his attention from wandering as he took in the familiar sights of Palermo. His first impression was that the place had changed, but that wasn’t right. He simply saw everything differently, now that he knew his place in life. 

Technically, they had come here on business. A market to catch before it closed shop, a few traveling merchants to meet at a convenient crossroads...but nothing that would take all of their time. This was a vacation. They both knew it, and they both needed it. Vercci’s business ventures had become abnormally stressful, lately, and if Voldo had to diffuse one more confrontation between his master and another pirate who didn’t know how easy it was to anger a man called the Merchant of Death, he was going to...well, not scream. He was going to be extremely irritated and give Vercci plenty of pointed looks so he would know exactly how irritated he was.

So, a bit of time off it was. Naturally, a man as wealthy as his master had homes in several cities along the coast. They were headed through the crowded streets to one such home, when Voldo felt a chill down his neck, despite the bright sun and humid air. 

If there was one thing he’d learned from Vercci, it was how to trust his instincts.

The slightest movement on a corner rooftop caught Voldo’s eye, and then he was grabbing his master, pulling him off of the road and under the protection of a nearby wall. Just in time, given the arrow that whirred past his head not a moment later. There was no one else in its path, thankfully, but Vercci glared at the projectile as it lodged itself in the wall a foot from his shoulder, as if the object itself had taken the initiative to ruin his peaceful day. Voldo turned back towards the rooftop, anticipating another shot, but the figure stood from its crouch and fled before Voldo could get a good look at anything besides the color of scarf it was wearing.

Voldo stepped forward and reached for the knife at his belt, fully intent on pursuit, but Vercci stopped him in his tracks.

“No. Let them go.”

Voldo turned back, frowning at him. Far be it from him to question his master’s decisions, but...

“They’re clearly not very good at their job, and with a scarf as tacky and distinctive as that, I’m sure I’ll be able to find out their identity soon enough. You can go hunt them down after we’ve settled in. I’m not letting this little incident ruin my week.”

Fair enough. Voldo shrugged, falling back into step behind Vercci.

The home that Vercci had secured in Palermo was like nearly everything else Vercci surrounded himself with: Unusual, elaborate, and elegant. It was, however, much smaller than the villa he kept in his hometown, and when night came and Voldo went to look for a bedroom of his own, he found that there wasn’t one - the servants’ quarters were full already with the few servants Vercci had brought along with him. Voldo entered Vercci’s bedroom with a polite knock, ready to bring up the issue, but upon seeing him, Vercci gave him much better news. 

“There you are. I was wondering where you’d scurried off to. Are you planning to come to bed, or would you like me to have to deal with propping up a sleep-deprived bodyguard during his duties tomorrow?”

Voldo raised a hand, ready to explain the issue with the concept of ‘going to bed’ at the moment, until Vercci gestured to his own bed expectantly. Voldo stared in surprise. Although he’d been _in_ Vercci’s bed, plenty of times, he was rarely allowed to sleep there. His master preferred to sleep alone.

“What, did you think I was planning to make you sleep on the floor?” Vercci smiled, and either his face or his personality was built in such a way that even the most genuine smiles still looked at least somewhat like smirks. “I’m not in a mood terrible enough for that, yet. Come to bed, or don’t, but I’m tired, and if you wake me up in the middle of the night, I may be tempted to push you onto the floor anyway.”

A grin spread across Voldo’s face, and he closed the door behind him.

Vercci regretted this decision the next morning, when he woke up and found himself entangled in a pile of Voldo. He was clinging to Vercci like some sort of particularly possessive animal, his head resting on Vercci’s chest, his arm around his waist, and his leg tangled between Vercci’s under the sheets. And now Vercci was trapped in his own bed. Excellent.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth, sometimes. Do you realize that?” he muttered, shifting as much as he could without actually waking his servant. He freed his right hand and ran it absently through Voldo’s messy hair. Voldo made a soft snuffling noise and buried his face in his master’s neck.

“I could have picked up anyone else as my guard, you know.” Vercci’s voice was fond as he trailed his fingers down the back of Voldo’s neck, tracing the ridges of his spine. “I’m sure I could find someone who’s nowhere near as clingy, or needy, or dramatic.”

He knew Voldo was awake now, because he heard a soft series of breathy noises, and felt Voldo’s chest rumble against his. He was laughing.

Vercci smiled. “What am I going to do with you? Get up, you lazy bastard, I’m not wasting a whole day to indulge you.”

Perhaps neither of them were on edge as they should have been, with the potential of an assassination attempt lingering over their heads. The problem was, the potential of an assassination attempt _always_ lingered over their heads. It was the reason Voldo was so useful in the first place. The perilous situation had lost its novelty after a few years. And so, after a day of market hopping, Vercci took his sweet time sitting in his study and reading through the information one of his contacts in the area had promptly gathered about his would-be killer. Voldo sat beside him, carefully cleaning the adornments on one of the elaborate knives Vercci had given him to use in his service.

“It seems our friend isn’t very good at secrecy,” Vercci commented, setting the letter down. He began summarizing it for his servant - Voldo had never learned to read - but as soon as he read the assassin’s name, there was a muffled thump as the knife Voldo was polishing slipped out of his hand and fell to the plush carpet.

Voldo froze for a second, eyes wide, before lowering his head in apology and reaching down to retrieve the weapon. Vercci raised an eyebrow.

“You know him,” Vercci said. It was a statement, not a question, but Voldo nodded sheepishly, checking the knife’s hilt for any damage. Vercci went over the possibilities in his head. “From the sound of it, he’s too young to be your father...an old friend?”

Voldo shook his head.

“Someone you worked with on the sea?”

No, not that.

“An old lover you failed to inform me about?”

There was a hint of red to Voldo’s cheeks as he denied that, as well.

Vercci hummed in thought, tapping his finger against the letter. “You left a brother at home, didn’t you? Or was it more than one brother?”

Voldo nodded at that, holding up four fingers. He lowered one finger after another until only one remained, which he used to point at the dark, curved writing that scrawled across the letter’s surface.

Vercci almost laughed. “So, your brat of a brother is trying to murder me?”

His servant looked half embarrassed, half concerned as he confirmed Vercci’s assessment of the situation.

“Well, I suppose this spices things up from the usual assassination attempts by jilted business partners.” Vercci sighed, steepling his fingers and staring down at the letter. “But, I suppose...” He trailed off, then turned to Voldo, commanding his full attention with the simple movement.

“Where do your loyalties lie?” he asked, his voice gaining an undertone of steel.

Without hesitation, Voldo reached out, laying a gentle hand on his master’s arm.

“Even now, when you face the possibility of going against your own flesh and blood?”

Voldo did hesitate, then. Somewhat. It wasn’t even a second, barely the smallest instant of pause before he wrapped his fingers around Vercci’s wrist and squeezed, nodding.

“I’m holding you to that.” Vercci’s voice had lost its edge, but Voldo knew this wasn’t a joking matter. Someone trying to hurt his master was someone trying to hurt his master. It didn’t matter if Voldo had grown up with that someone, if he had played in the streets with that someone and drove their mother crazy with that someone.

Voldo took Vercci’s hand, raising it and kissing his knuckles. He was content to be held to anything his master wished. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. He didn’t expect to have that notion tested so soon. They had two more days of relative peace, but on the third late night, a chill ran down Voldo’s spine as he walked through the hall that led towards the garden. 

He slowed to a halt and closed his eyes. Now that his own footsteps had ceased, he could hear something out of the ordinary. A series of soft impacts, stealthy, but still too heavy to belong to an animal, coming from his left - or, no. From above him.

Half a minute later, Voldo was pulling himself up onto the eaves. The intruder was trying to be quiet, but Voldo was quieter, and it was simple enough to crawl to a position where he could easily observe the man.

Voldo almost broke his silence letting a heavy breath out through his nose. Even seeing only his back, Voldo could recognize his older brother. The thin build, the pale skin, the light, curling hair that their mother had always tried and failed to tame - he didn’t expect to meet Luca again under these circumstances. 

It didn’t matter. He was trying to harm Vercci.

Voldo lunged forward out of his crawl, in a movement that mirrored an animal pouncing on its prey. The noise he made was enough to alert Luca, but he turned too slowly to prevent Voldo tackling him to the rough, angled surface of the rooftop. Voldo was efficient - or perhaps Luca was simply inexperienced - and it took only moments for Voldo to disarm him.

Luca kicked and struggled as Voldo turned him onto his back and pinned him down, but they were no longer children playfully wrestling with each other, and he couldn’t dislodge Voldo’s hold. He narrowed his eyes.

“Hell of a way to welcome your family,” Luca said. His voice was rougher than Voldo remembered, his eyes more tired.

Voldo just stared at him, silent as ever, a knife gripped tight and confidently in one hand.

Luca sighed, letting his head fall back onto the roof. “This wasn’t about you. I was hoping to leave you out of it entirely. You should know better than anyone that a job’s just a job, right? Your guy’s made a lot of enemies. Rich enemies that consider an assassin’s fee a pittance.”

Voldo took a deep breath. He was upset at his brother, suddenly, not for the murder attempt but for what he was saying now. They hadn’t seen each other in years, and this was what they talked about when they reunited? They had been a normal family, once. Almost normal. Now Voldo felt wrong. This wasn’t how a family should be. Vercci had swept him into a brighter, happier life, a place where he felt like he belonged, and now Luca had to go and ruin the dazzle of it all.

There was a long silence between them as they stared at each other, Voldo’s grip still unbreakable on Luca’s arms. 

“So...” Luca began, dragging out the word and attempting a casual smile. “How’ve you been?”

Voldo couldn’t help it. He smiled, dropping his head in an unsuccessful attempt to cover up a laugh. His brother smiled along with him, and it was that old lopsided, mischievous grin that Voldo remembered so well.

“Look, you know it’s nothing personal. I’ll go and give that dealer his money back. Promise. He’ll be angry, but I’m sure he can always hire someone else.”

Voldo hesitated. Even if he’d stopped Luca before he could do any damage, Vercci still didn’t take kindly to any attempts on his life or his belongings.

Luca finally wrenched one of his arms free, and Voldo was on alert instantly. But all Luca did was wrap an arm around Voldo’s back and pull him into an awkward hug.

“Hey,” he muttered, “I’m proud of you. Look at you. My baby brother, all grown up, dressed all fancy and working for a guy whose name is known the kingdom over.”

The tension drained out of Voldo’s limbs, and he returned the embrace. Maybe this didn't have to ruin anything.

Luca made to get up, and Voldo let him, descending from the roof alongside him. Luca brushed off his clothes once he was back on solid ground, glancing over at Voldo. “You’re not supposed to be staying here much longer, are you?”

Voldo shook his head.

“That’s fine. I’ll, uh, tell mother you said hello, then.”

Voldo tackled him again, this time with another hug.

When his brother was gone and Voldo walked back into the study where Vercci was working, Vercci took one look at his face and said, “You didn’t kill him.”

Voldo lowered his head, shaking it in a soft _no._ There was no use in lying. Vercci could read a stranger’s face like an open book, he must have memorized every one of his servant’s ticks and tells by now. Not that Voldo had ever been decent at deception in the first place.

All he could hope for was forgiveness.

His master let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “The things I put up with from you...”

Voldo swallowed, his throat dry.

“...But, I suppose he’s too incompetent to be much of a threat anyway. After all, if I hadn’t guided your training, you’d still be a clumsy mess.” A smile returned to Vercci’s face, and he waved his servant over to his desk. “Get back here, we have plans to make.”

Voldo couldn’t suppress a grin and a bounce in his step as he returned to his master’s side. Right where he should be.

**Author's Note:**

> I think about the fact that Voldo was one of five brothers a lot. What a chaotic household that must have been.
> 
> Canon never really states whether Voldo went mute after Vercci's death, or if he's always been that way, so I just went with him being born as such. I hope it wasn't too intrusive to the story!


End file.
